


(You Are) The Exception to the Rule

by CapricornBookworm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Banter, Enemies to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, Hair-pulling, M/M, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 00:01:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13154841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapricornBookworm/pseuds/CapricornBookworm
Summary: Several weeks prior, Harry had promised himself that he wouldn't fuck Malfoy anymore… That was at least a dozen fucks ago.





	(You Are) The Exception to the Rule

“Don't be so pathetic! Just fuck me, you moron.” 

Harry unbuckled his belt in a huff, unzipping his trousers and pulling out his hard cock as if it was a chore. “Well if you stopped acting like such a bloody prick, I might feel a bit more motivated.” 

“What, my ‘exceptionally fuckable arse’ isn't enough motivation for you?” Malfoy bit back, scowling at Harry over his shoulder. His silky blonde hair was perfectly coiffed, his sleek black dress robes still neatly pressed. He looked entirely un-rumpled from the waist up. The very picture of a high-class socialite. Whereas, below the waist, he was miles of smooth bare skin, long lean legs and a deliciously plump arse. 

Harry gave a hard smack to Malfoy’s arse, watching with satisfaction as the pure white skin bloomed red, the flesh hot to the touch. “Don't use my own words against me. I said that after you blew me during a Ministry meeting. I clearly wasn't in my right mind.”

“Ah, I see. So, the other three times you said it were simply a coincidence? You just weren’t in your right mind?” Malfoy smirked in a way that made Harry's blood boil, magic crackling at his fingertips as he clenched his jaw tightly. “Come to think of it - ” Malfoy began, wiggling his arse as he tapped his chin thoughtfully, “ - Are you _ever_ in your ‘right mind,’ Potter?

Without a second thought, Harry stepped forward, lining his cock up with Malfoy’s arse with one hand while he dug his fingers into Malfoy’s pretentious head of hair with the other. He used his grip to yank Malfoy’s head back, watching his neck stretch taut, his eyelids shuddering as he gasped for a breath. Harry leaned forward, feeling his lips brush against the shell of Malfoy’s ear, “Fuck. You.”

When Harry felt his cock breach Malfoy’s hole, he slammed his hips hard, filling him up in a single stroke. Malfoy let out a shriek that could have been interpreted as pain or pleasure. Either way, it made Harry's cock throb with pride.

****

Several weeks prior, Harry had promised himself that he wouldn't fuck Malfoy anymore… That was at least a dozen fucks ago.

If Harry was being honest, there was nothing quite like fucking Draco Malfoy in a public place. Nothing quite like making him scream from the pleasure. And certainly nothing quite like watching his come drip out of Malfoy’s arse.

Harry would leave him standing in some staircase or secluded corridor with his trousers around his ankles and come in his arse. It was a delicious sight to behold.

Destroying Draco Malfoy was undoubtedly one of Harry's favorite past-times. But after accidentally revealing this to Hermione after five too many shots of Firewhiskey, Harry decided he needed to make himself a rule: No more fucking Malfoy. 

For the first two days, Harry performed admirably, only fucking Malfoy once. Although, he had considered that fuck an exception to his rule. Malfoy had worn a pair of thigh high dragonhide boots that were so ridiculously form-fitting that Harry was sure they had been custom-made. Who in Merlin’s name could resist that? 

Thighs high boots became Harry's first exception to the rule. 

It wasn't long before Harry had collected a whole list of exceptions to the rule. Everything from getting a raise, to finding the case file he thought he lost, to attending a funeral, or simply being bored. Anything and everything became a reason why Harry simply _had_ to fuck Malfoy.

Sometimes he just had no choice. 

This was one of those times.

Malfoy had spent an entire charity event flouncing around the ballroom and telling anyone who would listen about all of the mistakes Harry had made when he was first training to become an Auror. Malfoy’s personal favorite seemed to be the time that Harry brought a sheep back the Ministry, fully convinced it was the animagus form of a criminal known for torturing Muggle families. After running the gamut of revealing spells and potions, it turned out it was just an ordinary sheep.

Harry watched Malfoy all night long, his face etched with ill-conceived anger, while Malfoy eagerly spread the news of Harry's failures and made sure to shoot Harry self-satisfied smiles whenever they locked eyes. 

He spent the entire evening provoking Harry.

Harry truly had no choice.

****

“Harder! Don't be a pansy, Potter. You know full well that I'm not going to break.”

Harry was slamming relentlessly into Malfoy, his hips making an obscene _slap_ with each thrust. Malfoy was practically keening from the force of the thrusts, Harry's hands gripping his hips so hard it was bound to leave bruises. 

Malfoy was loving every minute of it.

“I'm already fucking you ridiculously hard, you sadist,” Harry grit out through clenched teeth. 

“Well - ah, shit! - well, that's disappointing. I was - _uhh_ \- expecting better.”

“Mmhmm, yes - _fuck_ \- is that why your cock is dripping precome onto the floor? Because I’m a terrible fuck?”

There was a moment where all that could be heard was the slam of hips against arse, and the whines and moans pouring out of Malfoy. Then he spoke. “Just because my cock enjoys a fuck, doesn't mean I do. My - _bloody hell_ \- cock isn't exactly picky. You are basically just a dildo to me.”

Harry let out a laugh, loud and rough, fucking Malfoy in a way that could easily be considered violent. “If you expected that to offend me, you are sorely mistaken.” He wrapped one arm around Malfoy’s waist pulling him up roughly so that his spine was arched, his arse pushing back against Harry's cock. “Hate you…. _Love. Your. Arse_ ,” punctuating each word with the thrust of his hips. 

Malfoy let out a high-pitched whine, leaning his head back against Harry's shoulder, his eyes shut tight, and strands of white blonde hair plastered to his forehead. 

As if on instinct, Harry moved his hand up, wrapping it around Malfoy’s neck and feeling the pulse jump beneath his thumb. Harry gave a squeeze and Malfoy let out a strained breath. It made Harry's heart beat wildly in his chest. 

A shrill voice broke through the moment, “Harry! You said you would stop!” 

Hermione Granger was standing at the end of the hallway, her eyes narrowed harshly and her arms crossed in disappointment.

“Fucking hell, why is she everywhere?” Malfoy whined. Harry gave his neck another squeeze, effectively shutting him up.

Then Harry turned his head to acknowledge Hermione, though he did not stop fucking Malfoy. “Yes, well, I made an exception.”

“Harry, you are a highly respected Auror. This is despicable behavior.” She turned toward Malfoy, “And Draco Malfoy…” she opened her mouth as if to say something, but then paused, “Well, you're _certainly_ better than this.” 

Malfoy flipped off Hermione, fucking himself shamelessly back against Harry’s cock. 

Hermione held up a hand to cover her face, a dark blush spreading down her neckline. “Harry, stop that right now! This is a charity event - ” Malfoy let out a moan, reaching back to sink his fingers into Harry’s hair. “A charity for orphan children! For Merlin’s sake. Get your clothes back on right now or I swear I will hex you both.”

“Kind of in the middle of something, Hermione,” Harry bit out as Malfoy panted in his ear. 

“Well - you - just stop being in the middle of it!” she spluttered out. “Also, you are supposed to be making a speech in the next several minutes. So get on with it, will you?”

Harry glared over at Hermione, “I think I’ve done quite enough for the orphan children. Especially given that I was one.” Harry reached up and instinctively touched his scar as he brushed a hair out of his face.

Malfoy spoke up, a mischievous smirk stretching across his mouth. Sarcasm and spite dripped from his lips, disguised in a sugary sweet tone. “You know, Granger... I’m all for hurrying it up. Potter simply _insisted_ on making love to my arse, so really, it wasn’t my fault.”

Without a second thought, Harry brought down his hand with a _crack_ , the palm of his hand colliding with the supple flesh of Malfoy’s arse. 

Hermione let out a squeak, her voice coming out high and breathless, “Harry James Potter, you are making a speech in two minutes!” She flicked her wrist and sent a Stinging Hex their way. 

Both men hissed at the sensation. They watched Hermione storm from the room, her expression flustered and her faced flushed the color of an over-ripe dirigible plum. She turned the wrong way as she headed back to the main ballroom, scurrying back past the pair of them not a minute later. She avoided eye contact, simply shouting “One minute!” as she ran past. 

Harry let out a sigh, accepting his defeat and pulling dejectedly out of Malfoy’s arse. He watched Malfoy’s hole clench around the air. It made Harry’s cock twitch. He wanted nothing more than to sink his cock right back into Malfoy’s arse. But he was fairly certain that if he didn’t return to the ballroom, Hermione would murder him. 

The pair of them began to throw back on their clothes, making themselves look presentable once more. There was a moment that Harry thought Malfoy was just going to get dressed and leave. Except he didn’t. 

“So… you made a rule not to fuck me. How’s that working out for you?” Malfoy asked with a grin. 

Harry threw his dress robes in Malfoy’s direction. “Shut it.”

“Mmm. Not so good, then?” Harry leaned over to smack Malfoy’s arse, but missed as Malfoy gracefully hopped out of the way. 

Though Harry continued to re-dress in silence, Malfoy was clearly not done talking, “I suppose this means that you _aren’t_ going to fuck me more anymore?”

Harry said nothing.

“And I suppose that also means you wouldn’t want to come back to my flat tonight.” Harry whipped around, staring at Malfoy blankly, not quite sure what was being offered. “Neither of us came,” Malfoy stated casually, as if commenting on the pumpkin juice. “I’d say we have some unfinished business, wouldn’t you?” He raised an eyebrow at Harry, his eyes glittering in the flickering candlelight of the hallway. 

Harry simply stared at the other man, his mind spinning. In the past five months the pair of them had probably fucked a hundred times, but not once had they done so outside of work. He hesitated, then replied in an even tone, “Yes, I’d say we do have unfinished business, Malfoy.”

Malfoy straightened the high collar of his dress robes, the silver trim accentuating his long neck. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black card about the size of a Muggle I.D. He handed it to Harry. “Go make a speech, Scar-head.”

The card appeared blank at first, and there was a sickening moment where Harry thought this was all a joke. Then he ran his thumb over the matte black surface and watched as a silvery-script appeared.

_Draco Malfoy_

_27 Wyndham Street_

_London_

When Harry looked up, he was alone in the hallway. He quickly stuffed the card into his trouser pocket, threw on his dress robes, and pushed his glasses more securely onto his face.

****

The speech was a success. It received a rousing applause and a number of large donations. And now that Harry had done his part, he was ready to make his escape.

Just as he was edging towards the doorway, planning to head for the Floo, Hermione intercepted him. She stood resolutely in Harry’s path, her face scolding him without the need for words. Harry had the decency to look ashamed, but still made to walk around her. Hermione promptly smacked him with a book. 

“Ow! Bloody hell, Hermione.” Harry rubbed his arm, looking at Hermione incredulously. “Where did you even get a book? Do you spontaneously produce them now? Fucks sake.”

Hermione looked rather proud of herself, turning her nose up at Harry. “That was for having sex at a charity event, and for breaking your promise about Malfoy. Now, where exactly do you think you’re going?”

“Home. Just home.” Harry ran his hand over the back of his neck, faking a yawn, “It’s been a long night.”

“Oh, I see. So you’re _not_ going to go visit Malfoy for another little rendezvous.” 

“‘Course not.”

“Harry, I’m not an idiot, so stop lying to me. And in case no one’s ever had the guts to tell you: you’re a terrible liar.”

“Fine. I’m going to see Malfoy.”

She let out a huff, “What about the rule? You specifically told me _not_ to let you do this anymore.”

Harry shrugged, “I’m making an exception.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, shaking her head at Harry and finally stepping out of his way. “You’re hopeless.”

Harry began walking backwards out the door, raising his voice and speaking in an overly kind tone, “Yes, and thanks to _you_ Madame Minister for having me at this incredibly _lovely_ event.” Harry bowed in an exaggerated manner and walked away. 

When he reached the lobby of the Ministry, he stepped into the nearest fireplace, concentrating on the delicate script etched on that little black card. 

He closed his eyes.

****

When Harry opened them, he was inside Draco Malfoy’s flat.

It was modern in design. The fireplace was made of smooth white marble. There was a coffee table that appeared to be made of molten silver, the reflective surface almost seeming to move, reminding Harry of the Black Lake during a full moon. Across from the fireplace was a long slate-grey couch, and behind the living area was a vast wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out over all of London, the city lights giving the flat a warm glow. 

Everything in the flat was made of sharp lines and harsh angles, much like Malfoy himself. Yet, it all felt oddly comfortable. 

Malfoy was lounging on the couch. He was dressed in simply a crisp white shirt and snug black trousers. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone, that small peak of skin exhilarating to Harry, though he had seen Malfoy in varying states of nakedness more times than he could count. Malfoy had a book in his hands, a pair of reading glasses balancing lightly on the bridge of his nose. 

Harry had not moved since entering the flat. They simply stared at one another. The fireplace crackled behind Harry. 

Malfoy reached for a small strip of parchment, placing it neatly inside the book before closing it. Harry watched as Malfoy’s long fingers ran over the worn leather spine. Harry thought about how he wouldn’t mind having those fingers inside him. 

“I see that you’ve made another exception to your rule.”

Harry’s eyes traveled slowly back up to meet Malfoy’s own. The words hung in the air like a spell about to burst, the air charged with magic and a dangerous kind of electricity. It was unpredictable.

Harry could have said any number of things in reply.

But he found himself walking over to the couch and showing Malfoy what he thought instead.

_You are the exception._

****


End file.
